  Morning came, and Eva awoke, to find that she was all alone in the palace, and to wonder at the utter stillness around her. There was no song of birds to be heard,—no fall of musical waters,—no merry children’s ringing laughter and sweet voices. To all intents and purposes the palace seemed as deserted as it had been the day before. And wondering at all this, Eva rose, and went out of the palace to look for her companions. They had returned; but when she saw them she understood why everything was so still. For, instead of the merry songs and joyous games and dances with which they had been accustomed to begin the day, they were gathered in little groups, and every face wore a sad and mournful expression. They seemed troubled, and every now and then one of them would point to the brook, and then shake her head; and Eva was going to ask them what could possibly have happened, and what the matter was, when they saw her; and then the whole crowd came around her, and before she could say a word, they exclaimed, with one voice: “Oh, Eva! Eva! what have you done? You forgot your promise; you went to the brook, and you heard its story?” Then it came into Eva’s mind that she must leave the children, who seemed so sorry for what she had done, and she hung her head and said, timidly: “I could not help it.” “It is true, and only what we feared,” one of them said,—the same one who had spoken to Eva through the door. “We knew how it would be before we left you. You could not help it, for it was Fate, and no promise can bar the power, no wishes change the will, of Fate.” Then Eva began to tell them her story. And they all listened, and when she told them how the green toad had pulled her dress, another of the children spoke and told Eva that the green toad was Aster’s friend, and would do all it could to help him. That, just before she came to the valley, it had been there and told them she was coming. And then Eva finished her story, and begged them to let her go. “We cannot keep you,” they said to her, “even if we wished it. We would like to keep you with us; but the green toad has commanded us to help you, so far as lies in our power. But we cannot save you from the dangers of the way. They, who are more powerful than our Queen, have forbidden it, and will not allow us to tell you what these dangers are, or how you can avoid them or escape them. That you will learn on the Enchanted River, down which you will have to go, and we must, if you ask us, furnish you with the means of reaching it. You cannot go there unless we help you, and we cannot keep you here if we would.” “Will I find Aster?” Eva asked. “That will depend upon yourself,” one of the children said, exactly as if she was telling a story she had heard. “If Aster had obeyed you, as he should have done, and as he was expected to do, your journey would have ended here, in this Valley of Rest, and we, who are the Dawn Fairies, would have been able to take his flower from the Night and Shadow Elves; but the loss of part of his coat gave them power over him, because Darkness always swallows up Light whenever it can; and so, just at the entrance of this place, on the verge between Shadow and Dawn, they succeeded in luring him away from you.” Then they told Eva that for a certain time, which had now expired, Aster’s enemies had been able to prevent her seeking for him. “During that time,” they went on, “we were permitted to receive you; but then since Aster’s friends have been able to speak to you by means of the brook, though they can do nothing to rescue or to help him, for you are the only person who can release him from the power of the Elves of Shadow-Land; and since you have heard the voice, and are willing to follow it, we can only, much as we would like to keep you with us, help you, and let you go.” “Has she no choice?” another asked. “Could she not, if she chose, remain with us, instead of exposing herself to the dangers through which she must pass?” “I would rather go,” Eva began, “if I may choose.” “You are right,” the first one who had spoken went on. “It is your fate, and,” using, as Eva remembered, words that Aster had spoken long before, and which seemed to be a proverb among the elves and fairies, “it will be, because it must be.” And then Eva heard, above the voices of the children and mingling with them, the words which had come to her along the waters of the brook, but spoken this time more plaintively than ever: “Eva! Eva! help me!” And the children heard, for they said: “You will not hear those words after you leave our valley. For, in the region through which you must pass, Aster’s friends have no power; you will have to depend wholly upon yourself. And”—as the waters of the little brook, by whose margin they were standing, began to ripple along faster, and murmur louder, while the musical fountains began to play, and the birds to sing—“and now you must leave us: everything is in readiness, and the time has come.” Then, with Eva in their midst, the children began to walk slowly along the brook, which no longer brought Aster’s voice with it. On they went, through the calm valley; not, however, as Eva had expected, to the door in the rock through which she had entered, and which she had never been able to find again,—though she had looked for it the day before, but in the opposite direction,—towards the cavern in which the waters of the brook disappeared. She asked why she was not to be allowed to seek for Aster among the rocky, stony wastes in which he had disappeared. “Because that is all over, and you cannot go back into the Past,” was the reply. “Nothing, which has once happened there, or been seen there, remains in Shadow-Land.” They had come, by this time, to the cavern, and Eva saw that its roof was higher above the brook than it had been the day before; and that, floating on the water, which was here as smooth and still as glass, there were a great many pure white lilies, and that every now and then a speckled trout would jump from the water, and send a shower of crystal drops to sparkle on the green leaves around the white lilies. “There lies your way,” the children said, pointing to the cavern and the brook. “But we must give you the means of going down the brook to the place where it meets the Enchanted River. Beyond that we cannot help you. We can only send you, in our boat, down the brook.” At these words Eva looked up in great surprise, for no boat was to be seen, and she could not imagine where one was to come from. But then one of the children clapped her hands, and, as she did so, a lily-bud slowly rose from the water, and then opened, till it was larger and whiter than any of the other lilies. And then, while all looked on in silence, the pure white leaves of the lily fell into the water and melted away in it like snow; and then another waved her hands in the air, and immediately, on the stalk from which the lily-petals had fallen, there grew a pod. And when the pod had stopped growing, a third, stooping by the brook, dipped her hands into the water, and the lily-pod detached itself from its stem, and came floating to the bank. Then the one who had clapped her hands took the pod out of the water and laid it on the bank. The second opened it and taking from out of it six round speckled seeds, laid them in the hands of the third. Then the third threw these six seeds, one by one, into the water, and as each seed touched the water it changed into a beautiful, large speckled trout; and one by one the six trout, gently moving their fins, ranged themselves in a line, their heads to the bank, and remained there, waiting. Then the three children, lifting up the empty lily-pod, placed it gently upon the brook, and Eva saw that, as it lay on the smooth waters, it had become a little boat. And then the six trout, one by one, swam from the line which they had formed, and ranged themselves around it, one at the bow and one at the stern, and two on each side; and while she looked at the tiny boat it grew longer and broader, and at either end it rose in a graceful curve, finished at bow and stern with an open lily-cup; and then the calm surface of the water broke into a thousand little ripples, rocking the lilies to and fro, which bent as though they were saluting the little vessel, along whose sides the tiny waves flowed caressingly. The children then told Eva that everything was ready, and that it was time for her to enter the boat which they had prepared for her, and which the six Fish Fairies would guide down the brook. But Eva hesitated, for the boat, she thought, was too small for her. One of the children, seeing that Eva hesitated, told her not to be afraid, for the boat was built in such a way, being a magic boat, that it would hold any one for whom it was made. So Eva did as she was told, and, stepping lightly into the boat, she found that it was just the right size for her; though she did not exactly know if it was she that had grown smaller or the boat which had grown larger. As she sat down, the children told her to be careful and eat nothing except what the trout, who were to guide the boat, would bring her; and in return she was to take care of them, and let no one molest them, for the Fish Fairies are the weakest of all the fairies, though they can go where the others dare not even be seen. When the boat had taken her as far as it could, it would leave her, and return to the Valley of Rest. Then, all joining hands, the children began to sing; and this is what they sung: Little boat, Gently float, With your sweet freight laden; Evil charm May not harm Eva, the earth-maiden. On her way, Night and day, Bear her onward ever; Till she land On the strand Of th’ Enchanted River. On this spot Linger not! ’Tis the appointed hour! Little boat, Onward float, Led by magic power. As the last words were sung, the boat, apparently of its own accord, moved into the centre of the brook, its bow pointing to the cavern. Then it paused for a moment, till the six speckled trout could come and take their places around it. And then, with a smooth, gliding motion, it went towards the entrance of the cavern, which suddenly raised its arch so as to admit the magic boat. When it was just under the arch, the boat stopped for a moment, and as Eva looked back, she saw that the children were already going back to the palace, singing as they went,—the bright, rosy light, and the rainbow-surrounded fountains, and the beautiful birds, seemed more charming than ever in contrast with the Dark Unknown into which she was going. Then the boat shot forward again, and the arch of the cavern, which had been raised to allow the boat to enter, dropped behind her like a curtain, shutting out the Valley of Rest from Eva’s sight. The rest she had enjoyed there was over,—her wanderings had again begun. |
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